Jade Fern Grove so things are different tonight

He was trying to swing his path back towards the shore. Towards the Shadewood. So, he left the meadow behind him and ambled slowly back the way he’d come. Somewhat, at least.

He brushed his nose against the ground, Hen on his shoulders. Scents passed through here, and something familiar about them scorched his memory. His brow furrowed deeper and deeper with every passing moment as he thought, chewing on the coming realization like a tough piece of gristle.

Only it never came, and he blasted out a breath like a horse, raising his head from the dirt. On his shoulder, Hen peered over his ears, then chattered at him a few times.

I don’t require your assistance or commentary He tried to convey to the chipmunk with a look.

She wandered. She wandered a lot, these days. Not that she doubted her father's warm welcome—she appreciated it greatly—but. . .

Well. Reconciling how he'd known her once as a perfect, pretty little girl, and now this grotesque husk of herself at his borders—

Lilitu swallowed and pushed roughly through the ferns, trying to keep away those thoughts. Her teeth gritted, she barely noticed the other wolf until she was almost upon them.

And then what she saw brought her to a stupefied halt.

Are you, she began, oblivious to the fact he was deaf, hanging out with a. . .squirrel?

Hen, again, noticed the new face first. Immediately, she ducked into his shoulder fur and he moved to greet the newbie with a raised brow.

Chipmunk. He rasped the clarification, the grey tinged pink words the woman spoke swirling across his vision. He licked the taste of them off his whiskers, turning to fully look her over. Older than him, colored by slate.

Friend. Chipmunk friend. A nod to punctuate.

Her lips parted at the explanation, one eye widening slightly. She took it in stride, though, and gave the wolf a nod—and then, foolishly, the creature at his shoulder.

I'm Lilitu, she replied, smiling. And you—and your friend?